Drowning
by obi's girl
Summary: Emma comes back from her trip with Gold and she's having trouble coping with her feelings, so she goes to the one place she thinks she might find some peace.


Title: drowning

AUTHOR: obisgirl  
Rating: pg-13  
Characters: Killian/Emma

Summary: Emma comes back from her trip with Gold and she's having trouble coping with her feelings, so she goes to the one place she thinks she might find some peace.

Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time characters are property of Disney and Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis. This fanfic is for pure entertainment.

It's late when Emma comes back to Storybrooke. She carries a tired Henry to the loft, puts him to bed as Neal keeps a safe distance away from her. She doesn't remember asking him to accompany her to the loft, nor she does she want to see him.

Eleven years, and it was all a manipulation. She forgave her parents for not being there for her because they didn't really have a choice but Neal, he did and he chose to leave her. Not only that, he's not the person that she thought he was and that part, hurts that most.

"Emma," Neal whispers, looking at her, beckoning her to join him in the hall for a quiet talk. She rolls her eyes but doesn't even oblige his request. "I'm sorry,"

"That doesn't really help me now Neal," she retorts, "You left me behind. Sorry doesn't even begin to fix what you did to me,"

He shrugs. "I know it'll never fix what I did but you should know that I never stopped loving you, or worrying about you," he muses.

"I don't," she says flatly, and Emma knows it's true. She spent eleven months in prison, most of that time pregnant and alone. She thought when she got out, that he would be there waiting for her, they would reunite and go to Tallahassee like they planned. But he wasn't there; she still went to Tallahassee, looking everywhere for him until she accepted the truth: he was done with her and wasn't coming back.

Now, he's there in her living room and feet away from their son; the only reminder of their time together. But she's not that person anymore. Emma grew out of that and as soon as she did, she outgrew him too.

Neal stares back at her. "What do you mean?"

"I don't love you anymore," Emma reasons, "And I think I knew that truth a long time ago but I never said it aloud to anyone because I was scared to,"

Neal shifts uncomfortably. She believes him when he says that he never stopped loving her but as far as Emma is concerned, it's over. Their time is over and has been for a long time. "I still want to get to know him," he says, referring to Henry, "He's my son, Emma; he's our son,"

"_He's my son_," she retorts, "and he can't be yours because he doesn't have a heart like yours, Neal,"

He stares after her, still trying to process the situation. Neal figured that Emma would be angry with him for abandoning her; he was angry with himself for many years because of what he did but he secretly hoped, if they ever met again, she would forgive him and everything would be all right. That's a fairytale.

This is reality.

"Emma please..."

"No," she says firmly, "I want you to leave,"

He shrugs. "I'm not abandoning my family again," he reasons, "and I was referring to you and Henry,"

"We're not your family Neal," Emma seethes, "Gold is, and you should use your time in Storybrooke to reconnect with him. I don't love you, I don't want you around Henry and I want you to leave this apartment. Now,"

Neal closes the gap between them but Emma steps away. He sighs and head towards the door, turn back and looks at her. "My wasted heart will love you forever, Emma," he says, smiling wryly.

It doesn't phase Emma as she stares coldly at him. He looks once more towards Henry's room and quietly leaves. As soon as he's gone, Emma rushes to the door, locks it and backs herself against it, crying softly.

It's 2.a.m. and Emma still can't sleep. She lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, hoping the quiet will lull her back to sleep but it doesn't. She gets up, changes out of her pajamas and into street clothes, scribbles a note for Henry in case she's still not back by the time he wakes up, grabs her apartment keys and leaves.

Sadly, Emma quickly discovers that Storybrooke at 2 in the morning is a ghost town. Everyone is asleep except for her, and none of the good places are open, so going to _Granny'_s or _The Rabbit Hole_ is out of the question. There is one place she could probably go where she knows she can find alcohol without having to worry about breaking and entering.

She heard a rumor when she got back from her road trip with Gold that Hook brought his famed ship with him to Storybrooke and Emma doesn't doubt that he also brought with him an endless supply of rum. Emma makes her way over to Storybrooke harbor, finds a trail of sand leading to nothing and walks onboard the cloaked ship.

She doesn't expect to find him sleeping up on deck, so wonders below deck. Emma wonders for a moment if there's a gold plaque on his door with the words' "Captain's Quarters," and makes bets in her head on whether he has one.

Emma finds his quarters after a couple of minutes, and slowly eases open the door, sneaking into his room. He's there, sleeping on his bed, no shirt to cover his chest and hook sitting on a nearby desk. She stares at his sleeping form before going about her task, trying to find anything that looks like a flask of rum without awaking him.

She hears him stir a few times and it doesn't worry her since she's not being too loud with her search. But after ten minutes of searching and not finding anything, Emma's beginning to get very frustrated and pouts a little too loudly, waking a groggy Captain Hook.

He opens his eyes, looks over at her and shakes his head. "This is either a really good dream or you've sneaked onto my ship to arrest me, which would be quite a reversal since the sheriff's the one who took it upon herself to break into my cabin," he mutters, looking wearily at her. "What are you doing here, love?"

"I'm looking for something," she retorts, "which I was sure that you kept in your personal quarters but I can't seem to find it,"

"If it's my hook, it's on the table behind you," he says flatly.

She turns to him suddenly "Rum," she says bluntly, "where is it?"

He grins at her, sitting up and leaning against the wall, exposing more of his chest. "You came here, broke into my room to look for rum because?" he questions.

"You're a pirate Hook and I know, rum can't be in too short supply on this ship," she retorts, "so, you're either going to help me look or go back to sleep,"

He scratches his head with his good hand. "You just got back from your trip with the Dark One," he reasons, "Rum is definitely in order for that one, I'm sure that you have all sorts of stories to tell,"

Emma doesn't say.

"Please turn around then," he says, "I need to change,"

She quirks an eyebrow and he sighs. "You don't have to but I still like my privacy, Swan," he continues, "You could watch, I don't think you'll be disappointed,"

"Five minutes," she growls, leaving his quarters and going to wait outside.

Five minutes later, she walks back into the room to find Hook fully clothed and brandishing the famed rum flask and an extra cup with a big grin on his face. "A lass should never drink alone," he says, offering her the cup. She takes it and sits down as he pours her a shot and saves the flask for himself. "So, let's hear it then. I always like a good story,"

"What if I don't want to share?" she counters.

"You're a boring drinking partner, Swan," he teases, "I can't imagine being stuck with the crocodile for a whole trip without wanting to kill him – which I venture you did once or twice. I want to know all the details of the affair,"

"Why? So you have some ammunition against him?" she questions, taking a long sip of the rum. "for your information, he's not the most annoying person to be stuck with. I could think of worse alternatives, current company included,"

He feigns a wounded expression over his chest, smiling. "You wound me, Swan," he teases, "but in all seriousness, was it successful? Did he find what he's looking for?"

Emma's expression changes dramatically, a dark cloud covers her normally bright features as she drinks herself another shot and it isn't lost upon Hook that she isn't happy with the outcome of the journey. "I don't want to talk about it," she says, closing up again.

"You found him, didn't you?" he surmises, _him_ being the man who broke her heart and Emma looks at him

curiously. He smiles. "I figured it had to be him, otherwise why bother me with '_where's the rum_?'"

"I thought that I would never see him again," she fumes, "Actually, I planned to never see him again but – did you know he not only left me but framed me for a crime I wasn't responsible for? I thought I hated him, but now I really wish that he were somewhere else,"

He takes a drink before crossing his arms. "So, he's here in Storybrooke," he reasons, "What? Did he follow you here?"

"I brought him here," she mutters, "for Gold,"

"Why would you – ?" he starts and starts laughing, "Isn't that something? What a remarkable irony. You fell for the one guy who turns out to be the son of Rumpelstiltskin. I knew that this would be an entertaining story,"

Emma stands suddenly. "What really gets me the most," she fumes, "is how, my whole life has been nothing but a manipulation and one big fat lie. When I came back from fairytale land with Mary Margaret, I asked Gold if I was a pawn and he denied it saying that he merely took advantage of what I am: a product of True Love. But that's not true anymore,"

Hook studies her seriously, and honestly, feels for her. He despises the crocodile for what he did to Milah but he hates manipulation even more. "You think that Gold had a hand in you falling in love with his son?" he deduces, "How could he when he was here the whole time?"

"I don't know if they kept contact while we were together but I do know, if I hadn't been with Neal, I wouldn't have had Henry. And isn't it all too coincidental that he ended up here in Storybrooke, adopted by the Evil Queen?" Emma continues, "Gold could have chosen someone else for Regina but it had to be Henry so I would have reason to come here and break the curse,"

He shrugs. "I suppose so," he reasons, "but from what I understand of the Evil Queen's curse, you were always meant to be the savior. It was fated and I doubt Gold would have known that he was giving his grandson

to the Evil Queen to raise,"

Emma's head sinks and tears start falling, and Hook stands, bracing her shoulders. "Hey there, beautiful," he soothes, "Look at me,"

"I don't regret having Henry, I love him so much but it's hard to see what's real and what's not," she cries, "Gold

manipulated everything, destroyed everything I thought was real and now, I feel like I'm drowning and it's hard to breathe,"

"Emma," he whispers, gently massaging her back and she cries against him.

"I don't know what to believe anymore and..." she looks at him thoughtfully, "I get it,"

"What?"

"Why you hate him," she reasons, "I'm not a big fan of his either but I get it. This doesn't mean that I'll give you

free reign to enact your own vigilante justice,"

Hook smirks at her. "I get that part," he reasons, "you are the law here. I don't expect any less,"

Emma smiles at him, her eyes drifting to his lips. "This must be the rum talking but in this light, you look _really_ good," she slurs

"I think that is the rum, love," he says, his eyes drifting to her lips. They seem awfully inviting, they've always been that way but now, there's an unmistakeable heat between them and he's pretty sure he can't blame the rum. "I think you should go,"

Emma's eyes linger on his lips, always tempting and the fever overwhelming her body isn't going away, or the need to taste. It's the only reason she leans in a little closer and kisses him first. She can taste the sweetness of the rum but also feels a greater desire to explore even more. Their tongues demand for more than what they can give and Emma's hands are already doing the walking, lifting his shirt loose from his pants.

_Oh God, those leather pants,_ her mind screams and her left hand forgets about his shirt and starts fiddling with the zipper.

That's when Hook pulls back and looks at her. "No, this isn't right," he says and she frowns at him. "Normally, this would be very lovely but we're both sated with rum and drunken sex is not the answer and I respect you more than one night stand, Emma,"

"You trying to be the good guy now, Hook," she retorts.

"I'm trying to do the right thing, Emma," he says, "because clearly, rum is getting the better of you. I should know,"

Emma stares at him, dumbfounded by his behavior; she doesn't even consider that he might be right about how rum is taking over her senses and winning over her better judgement. "You should go home, get some rest and be with your boy, who needs a sober mother to look after him,"

Emma turns on her heel, bound to leave the cabin but stops, turning back to him. "For your information Hook, I know how to hold my liquor and secondly, there isn't anything that I previously said that I didn't mean," she retorts.

"I know," he reasons, "but all the same, I still think you should leave,"

She watches him get comfortable again on his bed, looking at the ceiling and away from her. "I'm still here Hook," she says flatly.

He raises an eyebrow, turning his head to look at her. "I won't ask you to leave again Emma," he reasons.

She sighs, walks over to the bed and leans down over him. Hook stares up at her, unsure what she's going to do next and he knows he shouldn't want to kiss her again and secretly hopes that common sense will take over. Emma smiles at him wickedly, bridging the gap between them, closing her eyes and kissing him again.

Hook kisses her back, feeling the same urgency but when he pulls away again, Emma's eyes are still closed and her body is limp on top of him.

"Seriously?!" he cries, trying to shift her weight off of him.

Hook looks over at her sleeping form and scratches his chin before getting up, finding an extra blanket and drapes it over her, leaving his quarters.

It's nearly 10 a.m. when Emma finds her way above deck with the worst hangover and the continual waviness of the _Jolly Roger_, swaying back and forth on the water doesn't help matters. She finds Hook relaxing in a hammock he tied between two masts and looks up at her as she blocks the sunlight pouring over him.

"You're awake finally," he says, studying her. "I trust you had a good sleep, it's a very comfy bed. I should know; it's mine,"

Emma looks at him wearily. "What am I still doing here?" she questions.

Hook raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms around his chest. "Don't worry love, nothing happened between us – except for you wanting to have your way with me. I had to fight off your advances many times before the rum got the better of you and you fell asleep," he teases.

"I don't remember that," she mutters, "but I do remember the rum, which I'm starting to think was poison,"

He shrugs. "I'll have you know pirates' rum is the best kind," he defends.

"Whatever," she dismisses and starts walking away, but turns around suddenly "Nothing _really_ happened, did it?"

"You did try and kiss me, twice but I think that was effects of the rum," he reasons, "but other than that, nothing serious except for you enjoying my bed and I wasn't,"

Emma studies him carefully using her lying detection skills to determine if he's telling the truth. "I believe you, for now," she reasons, "Thank you for the bed and for being a gentleman,"

He smiles at her thoughtfully. "I'm always a gentleman lass, you should know that by now," he teases,"and you're welcome, Emma,"

She nods to him, turns and leaves the ship. Hook sighs, watching her leave and brings his fingers to his lips, remembering the feel of hers on his twice and hopes next time, she'll be sober enough to remember.

The End


End file.
